Homecoming
by EvanescingSky
Summary: 500 years after the Mage-Templar War, Hawke works on a crabbing vessel in a small coastal town, and Orsino teaches magical theory at the local college, watching over the house when Hawke is away.


Orsino took the day of work and drove down to the docks before sunrise. Given how late the sun rose this time of year, it wasn't too much of a trial, and the reward would be well worth it. Dim yellow lights around town marked its first yawning into wakefulness. The earliest risers had been up for hours already, preparing for the rest of the day. The radio remained silent; he could not have focused his thoughts on music or host chatter now. He arrived early, and waited in the car, silently thanking the Maker he could keep it warm under his own power and not have to freeze his ass off to save gas. The windows and the dash fogged up—much like the air outside, with wispy clouds hanging over the frigid water—until he could barely see the sailors marching down the gangplank. When he registered the movement, he forced himself to emerge from the car into air so sharp it felt like glass against his face. They shouted and jockeyed among themselves, wobbling around as they accustomed themselves to standing on solid ground again.

"There's my enchanter!" He heard Hawke's shout before he could spot her among the gaggle. There she was—wearing the beanie she'd bought with the birthday money he gave her, pulled down over her ears, showing just the ends of her boyish bob cut. Her windbreaker was open, flapping in the breeze, her lucky shark tooth necklace bouncing against her chest. She tossed her duffle bag to the ground in favor of running to meet him. He braced his feet against the frosty ground to catch her as she flung her arms around his neck.

"Hello, Hawke," he breathed, gripping her waist. Her enthusiasm roused a great warmth in his breast, along with relief that she was back safely.

"Hey, you," she said. "Oh Andraste's ass, you're warm." Once she had been in contact with him for a moment she realized.

"No! Hawke!" Orsino grappled with her for a moment to get ahold of her wrists before she could stick her chilly hands somewhere unfortunate. "The _car_, the _car _is warm!"

"But the car's not as comfortable," she said, pulling back with a crooked grin. Her eyes reminded him of polished topaz, glinting even in the hazy early morning light, but he was distracted by getting a good look at the scabby, swollen cut on her left cheek.

"What happened to your face?" he asked at once, distracted from his internal fawning, frowning.

"Ah, bit of rigging hit me. Honestly, it could've been a lot worse," she snickered. "I was lucky it was just a little piece."

"See you, Hawke," Alistair said as he shuffled by, bag thrown over one shoulder. "Hey, Enchanter."

"Alistair." Orsino gave the young man a nod. "Good to see you're well. Thank you for bringing Hawke back in one piece. Mostly."

"Mostly!" Her indignant reply came at the same time that Alistair laughed.

"Bring her back! I think Hawke's the one bringing _us _back in one piece," he said, a grin stretching wide across his youthful face. "Never seen anyone climb rigging like that. Even if you did get clipped in the face. You'd have been a dragon slayer back in the day, I'm sure of it," he said. Orsino couldn't resist reaching out to tug Hawke's hat on a little snugger and she smiled softer.

"I appreciate it all the same," he said. "Give Duncan my best."

"Mine too!" Hawke added as she went back for her bag. She popped open the car door and called to her co-workers: "See you single losers later! Me and the boo have catching up to do!" Then she disappeared into the steamy car, gasping and rubbing her hands together as the warmth swept over her. "Hey, thanks for coming to get me," she said when he had joined her, giving him that unassuming, roguish smile that made his heart flutter and melt like ice under a warming spell.

"Of course," he said. "I have the day off for it."

"Beautiful!" Hawke reached over and tweaked his ear. "Perks of being First Enchanter, huh?"

"Hardly," he said. He did not remark that he was the _only_ enchanter in Minerva—Hawke would not relent on the joke about him being the town's First Enchanter, and it had started to spread. "Meredith has already been all over me about it. But that doesn't matter. It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," she said, settling into her seat as he got the car in gear. "I missed your cute face." A shiver went through her as she thawed and she stuffed her hands between her legs for the warmth.

"Not as much as I missed yours," he wagered.

"Oh, don't get sappy on me, I've been back for five minutes," Hawke complained. She punched on the radio, flipped through about ten stations, then turned it off again.

"Do you mind if we go by the store on the way home?" he asked. "I've been meaning to go all week."

"Not at all, let's go," she said, stifling a yawn. Orsino shook his head.

"You must be exhausted. Never mind, I'll go later."

"No, no," Hawke insisted around another yawn. "It'll be quick, right? Let's do it."

"How was the trip?" Orsino asked, glancing over at Hawke. She had slumped down in her seat like she meant to go to sleep right there.

"Oh, good," she said.

"How was the catch?"

"Decent," she said. "I was hoping it would be bigger, but aren't I always? Can't be expecting the same kinds of catch they were reeling in ten years ago. I'll be over tomorrow to unload. Don't have to be in until nine though, praise be. Boy, you should've seen this squall we went into last week though! It was wild. I can't believe we didn't capsize. That's when I got hit with the rigging." Hawke went on talking about the storm and dumb things the other fishermen had done, and Orsino basked in the sound of her voice, buoyant and unceasing. "How have things here been though? Queen bitch Meredith still being a bitch? Students still causing trouble? Pipes still acting up?"

"Yes to all," he reported. "You should hear her proposals for next year. The professors are already up in arms. I'm having to mediate on something that won't be enacted until fall."

"Oh, yeah? What's she doing now, the witch?" Hawke flashed a toothy grin, goading him again to get into his rivalry with one Meredith Stannard, head of the local Templar Order. Long gone were the days when the Templars wielded swords in the name of the Chantry, but that would have been news to Meredith. She treated the national registry of mages like a list of latent criminals.

It was hard to believe Hawke took the same pleasure in his pedantic stories that he got from hearing her talk, but as she always insisted on a report of what he had been doing since she'd last been in port, he had to assume that was the case—there was no other explanation for why she cared about students she'd never met or feuds about things she didn't understand, not being in the field.

When they pulled up to the curb and got out of the car, he noticed the circles under her eyes and wished he hadn't mentioned the store at all. But her perkiness was undaunted by the long voyage. She alternated between talking his ear off about anything that came to mind and dashing around grabbing things off the shelves to throw into the cart. Typically, Hawke decried anything remotely _sappy_, which had meant for a long time she disdained any forms of public affection that suggested they were a couple, but in the time since she took up crabbing, she had relented somewhat. Orsino could only pin this on the long weeks—sometimes months—she spent out at sea with her rough and tumble cohorts as her only company.

"What do you want for dinner?" he asked.

"Roast chicken!" she declared. "Or pork loin. Oh, maybe those little game hens! Honestly, anything that's not fish. Are those _frozen lava cakes?" _She vanished from his side to grab three boxes and toss them into the cart. "I swear they weren't selling these when I left! I'll go get something from the butcher," she said. "Something we can throw in the oven." At the butcher's counter, she separated to go talk to Solivitus, but Orsino lingered a moment as she greeted the butcher jovially.

"Hey, Champion," Solivitus said. "Back from work?"

"Are we _still_ on about that?" Hawke groaned. "Yeah, I'm back. Got a couple months on land before I sail out again."

"The First Enchanter must be clicking his heels," Solivitus remarked with a smile. "What can I get for you?"

"The fattest fucking chicken you have," she said. "I'm stuffing that baby in the oven as soon as we get home and having something _hot_ for dinner tonight." Orsino continued on his way as Solivitus displayed his chickens for Hawke, lest he be caught eavesdropping. The town was not large—and he and Hawke had been _involved_ for nearly two years by then—but was it _so _obvious? He knew going out to dinner would be the kiss of death for any secrecy. aShe caught up with him near the check-out line with her chicken, trussed up and wrapped in brown paper. "Do we have some potatoes or something to go with this?"

"Yes, I think we do," he said.

"Champion!" Dagna at the check-out line greeted her with a smile. "Good to see you! I thought I saw the Enchanter smiling!" She glanced up at Orsino with a well-meaning look.

"You guys have _got _to stop calling me that," Hawke said. "What are you still doing here anyway, Dagna? Haven't you been able to gnaw through your foot yet?"

"I'm getting there," she said. "Had a bit of a set-back in December—my car just went kaput—but I'm still working on it. I've passed the entrance exam, so now I can start on my applications." Hawke grinned.

"Good for you! If anyone could shake this place off, it's you. _You'll _be the one they're calling 'Champion' soon!"

"Oh, I don't know about that," Dagna said as she scanned their items in. "I think that title will always be yours." Hawke groaned again.

"Six years!" she exclaimed as she picked up the grocery bags. "Six years!" she said to Orsino as they exited the store. Pausing at the sidewalk, she glanced around and asked, "Do you want to like…get coffee or something? We could go to Malta's."

"Hawke, you look like you're falling asleep on your feet," Orsino said. "Don't you want to go home?" She shrugged and rocked on her heels, looking in the direction of the town's only café (it was unfair to count the Jitters coffee _shack_ that sat in the parking lot of the defunct Stone-Bear Home Improvement).

"I dunno. I guess. Don't you want to go for coffee?"

"Do _you _want to?"

"I guess we can have it at home." So she got in the car and they drove to their little one-story with the scraggly dead bushes outside that wouldn't sprout leaves again for several more months, and the evergreens in the backyard. It was Hawke's, technically. She and her mother had bought it, but now Hawke was the only one left and the house was in her name. She had taken Orsino there from his rented room "downtown" as she insisted having someone around to look after the place when she was at sea was an invaluable help. That was probably true, but he also thought she had hated living there alone too intensely to ever allow herself to come home to an empty house again if she could help it. After what happened to her family, he couldn't blame her.

As they pulled into the drive, she smiled again and helped carry the groceries in. Orsino's cat, which Hawke allowed in as her massive Mabari hound had died a few years back, watched them shuffle through the door from her seat on the front porch. Hawke dumped her grocery bags on the counter and leaned back against it with a long sigh. The kitchen had been paneled in faux wood a decade ago, along with much of the rest of the house, and no one had ever bothered removing it. Its slightly outdated look fit with the rest of the town.

"I'm going to take a shower," she said. "I trust you can manage the groceries?" Orsino nodded and Hawke disappeared down the hall. The house seemed fuller with her in it, warmer, homier. He let Maria in when she pawed at the door and put on a pot of coffee. After a long shower—long for Hawke, which was still under thirty minutes—she emerged in well-worn jeans and a sweater to accept a mug of coffee, which she immediately put aside to slide her arms around him. "I can't believe I haven't greeted you properly yet. Give me some sugar to go with that coffee, baby."

"I should be calling _you _that," he said, his lips twitching with a smile before he leaned in and kissed her. Hawke hummed into it and held it for several long moments, the way she never would at the docks, with the other crabbers around.

"Be my guest," she said when they separated.

"Go sit down then, baby," he said, swatting her backside. Before he could offer to bring her coffee, she burst into laughter.

"Okay, I can't take it seriously," she said, grabbing her mug. "Stick with Hawke."

"The house has been so empty without you, _Adora,_" he lamented in exaggeration, seizing his own mug to follow her out to the couch. "It's terrible, the sun never shines when you're away, my love!" Hawke let out a long, gargling groan and threw herself down on the couch. Grinning, Orsino sat beside her. She pushed him away with a foot, snug in her wool socks.

"You're such a pain in the ass," she said. Then she sobered uncharacteristically and folded her legs to sit facing him on the couch, cradling her coffee mug between both hands. "That's not really how it is though, is it? When I'm away?"

"What do you mean?" he asked. _I knew it!_ Something had gotten into her.

"Everyone is…they talk like you've got a rain cloud over you every time I leave," she complained, biting her lower lip. "It's not that bad, is it?"

"Is something wrong, Hawke?"

"I don't like to think I'm…leaving you here all miserable and depressed," she said with a deep frown. "I know things with the job are difficult and I'm away a lot, and when we started this there wasn't…things were more _casual_, but…if you've changed your mind, if you have an issue with my work, you'd say something, wouldn't you?"

"It's not for me to say what you should or shouldn't do with your life," he answered. Certainly not when they refused to even put a word to what the relationship was. This did not alleviate the concern on Hawke's face in the slightest.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But if you _did_ have a problem, you'd say it, wouldn't you? I—" She shifted on the couch, breathed in steam from her coffee, and went on: "I don't want to come back from a trip and find out you've decided to ditch my ass while I was gone because you can't take this anymore. I don't want you feeling like you can't say anything so you just sit around hating the whole thing until you can't take it anymore."

"I'm not doing that," he said.

"Promise?"

"If the time ever comes as I have a problem with your job, I'll tell you," he said. "Hawke, you know before you were…_around_, my home was empty the _whole_ year. Now I get you for parts of it. That's infinitely better. I won't complain because I can't have you _all _the time. Of course I like having you here and I miss you when you're gone, but the times when you're here it…" He knew he was giving her one of those mushy looks that flustered her and tended to cut off coherent conversation, but he couldn't help it. She'd been gone two months! With one hand, he touched her cheek—the one without the cut-easing into a caress. "It more than makes up for when you're away." Her sun-browned cheeks darkened and she glanced away, but didn't remove herself from his touch.

"As long as you mean that," she said. It was a mark of how important the conversation was, he thought, that she hadn't wriggled out of it yet. "'cause I…I don't want you feeling like my port girl or anything."

"Port girl?" He withdrew his hand and studied her face, growing darker still.

"You know! Like sailors used to…having a girl in every port. This isn't something I do just for kicks when I'm home. I…" Hawke ducked her head to look down at her coffee. It was incredible that she could make the most brazen passes at him without batting an eye, but when it came to suggesting she had _feelings_ about their relationship, she was suddenly as tongue-tied as a teenager with her first beau. It was too cute for him to avoid teasing her about it when he had the chance. "There _isn't_ anyone else I'd want to come home to. Except Butch, but y'know…she's dead. And a dog. So…if you feel that way, you have to tell me, deal?"

"Deal," he swore, abuzz over the bit about coming home to him. He leaned in to kiss her again and this time she snuggled in close to return it.

"Shit, I missed you," she breathed when they broke apart. She put a hand on his cheek and turned him more towards her to kiss him again. Her mouth was soft and warm and felt like a homecoming of his own. Sometimes he thought he could get back into the rhythm of living without Hawke in his life, and then she returned and reminded him why that would never be true. She leaned over him to pull the lever to put out the footrest on the couch, then resumed her place by his side, now able to stretch her legs out satisfactorily. "Work tomorrow?" she asked, tucking her head beneath his chin.

"Unfortunately."

"Mm…maybe I can come by for lunch," she said. "How's the truck?"

"I took it by the shop earlier this week. It's all in order."

"You're a doll," she sighed, relaxing her weight against him. "What would I do without you?"

"Have cold feet a lot more often?" he suggested. Hawke snickered, and he could tell she was getting sleepy.

"Very true." At last, Hawke relaxed. Orsino stroked her hair with gentle rhythm and listened to her breathing soften into sleep.

"Welcome home, lethallen," he murmured.


End file.
